A small smile came to her face; the bus was no different than it had been any other day, but there was now a clarity which invigorated her. Clarity is often brief, but forceful. Flying dangerously down the walkway, she moved with a force that drew eyes from those around her. She looked crazed, but she knew they wouldn’t care. After all, they knew her face by now, they knew what she was like, they knew her arrival and her departure. Her laughter came freely now, but it was a laugh she could not recognise, perhaps it came from her, perhaps it came from another passenger. Familiar but ultimately forgotten, as though she had met an old friend.
Despite her neurosis (ongoing), she looked up at the bus driver, his eyes squinting in the morning light. The clearness she had felt earlier had eventually subsided, and she returned to the stupor she was in before. Mechanically, she moved towards the front of the bus. It came to her stop, and the doors stretched open as if they were aching. She thanked the driver, he grunted, and she stepped out into the cold sunlight.
Hi, I’m Erin. I’m currently studying English and History. She/her
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